Two Baying Wolves
by Marukanitel
Summary: Azog/OC. AU story where Orcs won the Battle of the Five Armies and now dominate most of Middle Earth. Chuluun, a Variag mercenary down on her luck, ends up stranded in Angmar with Azog the Defiler. Full fic is on AO3, I cannot publish the whole thing here due to its content.
1. The She-Wolf Of Khand

The sun was already setting when Chuluun arrived in Aughaire, one of the last few neutral settlements in Angmar.

The Orcs having claimed the fell kingdom for the better part of last century after the great battle of Erebor, the north wasn't as safe as it used to be.

She knew their kind very well. Growing up in Khand, with Mordor on their border, Orcs and Men lived in relative peace in these lands, albeit somewhat uneasy at times. However, she had heard they were bigger here, more savage and vicious.

Alliances were flimsy since the fall of Sauron and she didn't expect the Orcs of Angmar to be magnanimous towards Easterlings. Thus she had to be very careful. The sooner she could leave this forsaken place, the better.

Darkness shrouded the desolate landscape quickly due to the covered skies and snow fell more and more heavily with each passing minute.

She sighed, tired and cold, her small legs barely carrying her now. She would have arrived earlier had her horse not twisted its leg in a startle, only to be taken down by a Warg moments later. The dangerous beast's presence had been the source of her mount's sudden nervosity, but she only noticed it way too late due to her tiredness.

Her quarry hauled over her sore shoulder, with her heavy helmet in one hand, she trudged painstakingly through the wet snow and mud. Clearly, heading this far north in the beginning of winter had been a bad idea. She felt down on her luck, yet had no choice but to carry on. Without a horse and with barely a few gold coins remaining in her purse, she would have to find a job here if she were to return home eventually.

Passing an old man, she asked for directions to the only tavern in town. This was the location she had been instructed to leave the package entrusted to her two days ago. She knew not its content and it mattered little. She had delivered plenty of things before, an easy task, and she loved to travel.

He gestured down the street, politely explaining it was two blocks down, on the left. She couldn't miss it.

Chuluun thanked him, pressing her free hand to his shoulder before continuing her slow walk. She had ridden through the North Downs almost without break, had nearly passed west Nam Amlug when misfortune struck.

She was not the superstitious type, but being attacked by a Warg as soon as she crossed into the kingdom of Angmar, this was an unpleasant coincidence. She had expected an Orc pack, but it seemed like the beast was wild. Still, she was lucky to be alive. The fearsome creature, black as the night, had nearly closed its jaws upon her arm before she'd managed to stab it right through the palate with her dagger.

She would have skinned and tanned its hide had she disposed of more time on her hand. It would have been a great help in the dropping temperature. Unfortunately, there were important matters to attend to and she couldn't risk remaining in one place for too long. The smell of the dead animals would surely attract more. Thus she carried on foot through the forest, following the road of Ram Duath. Snow started falling lightly in the middle of the afternoon, but it soon came pouring down, covering everything in an immaculate blanket of cold.

Chuluun was happy to arrive in the small village after such a trying journey. She had never been this far away from home before. This wanderlust of many years had brought her almost all over Arda, but she tried to avoid the north as much as possible.

She had no intention on continuing her little trip all the way up to Forochel. Especially after today and, given the gloomy weather, what she wished for right now were long vacations in Harad.

Years prior, she and her older brother had travelled to the southern lands. Now, the tan she had acquired under its scorching sun had all but faded, and she dearly missed the comfort of the oases and time spent fighting alongside her sibling.

She kept only good memories of her trip despite a few minor injuries she had suffered along the way. The terrible sunburns. The biting insects. Most of her encounters with the Haradrim had been positive. She had made plenty of new friends and even had the privilege of riding a Mûmakil. This reminiscence never failed to make her smile, it lifted her spirit up a bit and she quickened her pace.

As she finally arrived at her destination, she glanced upon the myriad of papers and flyers hanging from the boarded wall before entering. One of them picked her interest.

"Mercenary help wanted." she mumbled absent-mindedly as she read, having a hard time concentrating due to fatigue.

This kind of work was always good money and it had been too long since she'd tested her steel against true adversaries. At the bottom of the missive were instructions to inquire within the town hall, ask for the captain of the guard.

She tore the parchment from the wood and stuffed it in her pocket before pushing the tavern's door open.

The warmth of its interior was much welcomed and a nice pint of ale would definitely make her feel better. She found place nearly empty, much to her surprise. The barkeep barely eyed her as she walked towards the counter.

"Delivery!" she chimed as she raised the burlap sack off her stiff shoulder and placed it before the man, busy washing a large mug.

"Is this from Trestlebridge?" he asked softly, not even lifting his head.

Chuluun confirmed as she nodded, although she knew he wasn't looking at her.

He took the bag and placed it underneath the counter, inquiring about its content, raising a suspicious eye.

The girl simply shrugged, "No idea. I was told not to ask."

"Good." came the barkeep's reply before finally offering her a drink on a much more convivial tone.

"Actually, there is something I need to do right away. I'd like a room though, if that's not a problem." Chuluun asked gingerly, fidgeting in place. She truly wondered what the mysterious delivery contained.

"Of course, young lady. It's five gold for the night. Most of our rooms are unoccupied, it'll be really quiet."

"I'll take one then." she said, a bit distracted while looking out the window.

The weather was not improving at all.

She fumbled through her purse and placed the coins on the counter before facing the man again.

"How come there are so very little people? I expected the place to be full, especially with this cold outside. One might assume people would be drinking to warm themselves up tonight."

The barkeep cleared his throat, a bit uneasy, before lowering himself closer, "We were attacked by Orcs just a couple weeks ago. People are afraid, so they're leaving. It won't be long before Angmar is entirely deserted of Men. Ever since the Dark Lord fell, the Orcs have been more self-sustaining. They are free now, so they raid for fun. They come, pillage a bit, kill a few, set one or two houses on fire, kidnap some women. It's become sport to them."

Chuluun winced a bit, covering her mouth with her hand, "But isn't it a bit better than when they used to raze villages and kill absolutely everyone?"

"Not much. At least, when they slaughtered everything in their path, it was over afterwards. Now they leave us standing so, after a month or two, they come back. Always the same. It's very demoralizing for the soldiers. The fiends are just too numerous now. Free people are moving westward, beyond Bree-land, where it's a bit safer. You should do the same, miss, if you know what's good for you."

The barkeep seemed somewhat distraught as he righted himself again, focusing back on his task.

Chuluun felt a certain relief she didn't arrive in the village while it was attacked by Orcs, but if what the man had said was right, then the fiends might return before long. It was definitely in her best interest not to linger. She turned around and assured him that she would be back soon as she headed out in the cold once again.

Wrapping herself up in her dark cape, she walked onward. With a few more directions requested from passerby, she managed to find the town hall.

It didn't stand out as much as she expected it to, looking a lot more like a regular house.

Entering cautiously, the place was in a state of disrepair, and she found the main hall empty despite being well lit.

She called out, curious, and soon heard rapid footsteps upstairs as a man in battered armour appeared on the upper floor, "What can I do for you, miss?" he eyed her inquisitively as he descended to her level.

Chuluun grabbed the paper from her pocket, brandishing it proudly, "I'm here for the job!"

"Ah yes, you've come to the right place. I'm Captain Haere, pleased to meet you." he solemnly extended his hand and the girl firmly shook it as he glanced upon her from head to toe. Before she could even place a word, he continued, "We don't often see Easterlings this far north. What brings you to Aughaire?"

"I'm heading back towards Rhûn, actually. That's why I need the money. Delivery from Trestlebridge brought me here, I don't intend on going further for now."

"Ah, yes yes, I see." the captain nodded, obviously lost in thoughts for a short moment.

Chuluun cleared her throat, somewhat worried he was judging her upon her diminutive size or the simple fact that she was female. She knew women rarely became warriors amongst Men of the west. It had always seemed strange to her. No wonder they lacked serviceable soldiers all the time. Wives taking arms just as much as their husband was traditional amongst her people. Both her parents were great combatants.

Haere asked her to follow him to the next room. He sat behind a desk littered with papers and various weapons, "I apologize for the mess, we've been rather busy after the Orc raid."

"So I've heard. Is this really a common occurrence?"

"Unfortunately, yes. We need more soldiers, we're not ready to abandon the place just yet. I still don't know if those curs are trying to drive us out or simply having fun, but everyone is deserting."

The captain kept going on about fights, and Orcs, and the dwindling population, and the importance of keeping at least one secure foothold in Angmar, as he frantically searched for something in the piles of documents.

Chuluun simply stared, amused, as she barely listened to his words.

Clearly, these poor people were desperate. This dreary village was empty and lifeless. A lone captain in a shabby town hall as they obviously no longer had enough guards to ensure proper rounds. The place was falling apart and there was nothing they could do to avert the crisis now. They had better leave, start over elsewhere.

She didn't know much about the situation in this part of the world, but everyone, at some point, had heard of the great battle that took place nearly a hundred years ago. The Orcs who besieged Erebor after the dragon had been driven out. The war had been particularly expeditious as the legions slaughtered Dwarves, Elves, and Men alike. No army would ever be vast enough to retake the mountain from the Orcs and therefore they had prospered over the last century. Everything along the Grey Mountains as well as the Misty Mountains, even parts of Mirkwood, all the way into Angmar, belonged to them now and they defended their territory fiercely.

"Your name?"

The girl was suddenly taken out of her musing, answering despite her distraction. "Chuluun, daughter of Ganyul."

"Very well." Haere scribbled his name on a piece of paper detailing their task and handed it over for her to sign.

Scratching the rough paper with the quill, she barely glanced upon what was in the contract. All that mattered was the gold. Just as she was done writing, he roughly stuck the parchment inside a dirty envelope and handed it to her.

"Be by the north gate tomorrow at dawn."

"Are we going to fight Orcs?" she inquired, unsure if he had said anything about it while he was spewing explanations about his soldiers' current situation.

The man stammered a bit, "Oh, no no. There are barbarians tribes around here. Hill-men, they are called. After an Orc raid, they usually come to terrorize the village. We always try to stop them before they do. The townspeople's morale cannot afford to take another hit. Getting rid of this menace will be good both for their security and spirit."

Chuluun nodded, glad that they would be fighting Men. Having lived in harmony with Orcs for most of her life, she was never particularly enthusiastic about killing them. She could, if she truly had to. She had no other choice sometimes, they were not particularly friendly creatures, but she usually preferred not to harm them.

The captain informed her about her payment, that she needn't worry, as he escorted her back to the door. He would pay her when their mission was accomplished. She bid him good night as she walked out into the flurrying snow.

Heading back to the tavern, she felt eager for the battle tomorrow. The money was good too. Although not quite enough to afford a horse, but she doubted she'd even find one for sale in this desolate place.

Her best bet was to hitch a ride with a merchant's cart or even some villagers leaving, fearful of another raid. She could use this money to compensate them and buy food. She would head back through the North Downs until she reached Bree where the opportunities were much better and there would surely be steeds up for sale.

Afterwards, from there, it was a straight road east to reach Rhûn. There wouldn't be much ambushes along the way, at least not until she reached Mirkwood. As she walked, she pondered whether she should go around the forest or straight through it.

As she finally saw the tavern's sign again, she shrugged. She would have plenty of time to decide what would be the best course of action. She already had enough to worry about for the time being without having to think about her eventual travel.

Back inside the building, there were a few more patrons this time around. She sat by the large fireplace as she ordered some spiced ale and a bit of roasted chicken with bread and cheese.

The barkeep offered to let her have this meal for free as payment for the delivery and she gladly accepted.

She sipped the beverage calmly while eating, taking time to warm herself up. Her feet were freezing due to her boots getting wet in the damp snow. She hated winter. From the weather quickly turning into a storm, she knew the whole place would be quite buried by tomorrow.

Staring into the flames, she thought of home. She was eager to go back, see her parents, her brother, and all of her friends again. She smiled, most of all, she wanted to see her dog. She missed the old mutt and dearly hoped he still lived. Going on long rides through the dusty plains of Rhûn, extending as far as the eye could see, with him running gleefully by her side. The earth illuminated by the light of a golden sun as wild horses galloped freely and, beyond, the rocky cliffs of Khand, her homeland, with the beautiful white mountains, eternally frozen.

She hadn't been home in nearly two years now.

She had been an avid traveller for over a decade. During her teens, she never went too far away, and never for a long time. As she aged, her desire for adventures and discoveries grew stronger. She spent most of her time in Harad, visiting her parents only once a year while they were stationed by the sea of Rhûn. Variags being nomadic, it would be impossible to find her family around any other time besides summer. The lithic desert becoming too arid, game was scarce, and thus many caravans spent time by the only water that didn't completely evaporate under the scalding sun.

She knew, when she would return, she'd have to choice but to spend time in a bordering village as there was no point in searching for her people during winter or even spring.

Stuck here now, she almost regretted to have left in the first place. After Gondor had been secured by the Orcs at the end of the Third Age, it was now safer for an Easterling to travel. Thus, one day, she embarked on this journey. Crossing through Mordor, now filled with settlements as the land was slowly healing, free of Sauron's presence. The volcanic ashes providing good crops to feed throngs of grunts. Now free of their dark Master, they had made good lives for themselves.

Still, the girl knew it'd be safer not to linger amongst them. She rode swiftly to the land of Rohan, following the mountains of Ered Nimrais. She laboured as a mercenary or courier wherever she could, always amassing just the money she needed to afford travelling further. Two years on the road and several horses had brought her here, in the cold and desolate north. While she was happy to have seen it, she now realized she should have continued due west instead. The Shire would have been much less dangerous, and much less cold, than the kingdom of Angmar.

As the hour was getting late, she was now thoroughly warmed up and slightly dizzy from the ale. Small as she was, it didn't take much for her to feel its effects. She hated being drunk so she always stopped as soon as she became lightheaded.

Retiring to her room upstairs, small and humble. Some might have considered it miserable, but after sleeping on the ground in forests or damp caves, she was happy to curl up in a warm bed.

She removed her gilded armour. Hardships and a long travel had tarnished it. Her clothes, burgundy in colour and loose enough to conceal her shapes, were ragged underneath. She was no longer a proud representative of her nation. She looked exactly like what she was, a warrior down on her luck, too far away from home.

Before allowing herself some rest, she carefully cleaned and sharpened her weapons, a small hatchet and a dagger, still coated in Warg blood. Both had served her well in battle. The axe had been made by the finest blacksmith of Khand. Her father had commissioned it as a present for when she came of age. The elegant poniard had previously belonged to her grandmother who once was a fierce warrior back in her prime. Its hilt beautifully carved in the shape of a dragon with emerald eyes. She felt great pride carrying this heirloom. Reminiscing all the throats she had slit with it and knowing the previous owner had sliced even more.

Once her arsenal was to her liking, she buried herself underneath the soft covers and sighed contentedly, quickly falling asleep to the sound of the wind beating at her window.

A pale grey light filtered through and Chuluun cringed. She could hear the faint calling of a rooster as she stuffed her face underneath her pillow, only thinking of roasting the animal for waking her up so early.

She was about to drift back to sleep when she suddenly remembered the captain had told her to be by the north gate at dawn.

She instantly bolted out of bed, "By the great Khamûl, I better not be late!" and shivered in the cold as she quickly put her armour on, tying her long black hair into a loose, messy bun so it would not inconvenience her during the fights. She'd brush it later, there was no time now.

She swiftly attached pouches and bags containing her personal effects to her belt, strapping them as fast as she could. Grabbing her weapons, sheathing her axe upon her hip and concealing the dagger into her boot, she then threw her cape upon her back.

Nearly tumbling down the stairs into the lounge, she rushed outside as the barkeep bid her good morning, inquiring whether or not she wanted some breakfast. She barely took time to politely decline before she was out the door.

The storm had died out during the night and she realized the sun had not yet risen. The sky was clear, she had feared the hour had been very late, but she sighed in relief to realize she was still on time.

Heading towards the gate with her helmet under her arm, she had to take big steps to walk through the great quantity of snow in the streets.

When she finally arrived, winded down, a few soldiers were already waiting, as well as Haere, straddling an old horse.

"I believe our company is complete." he said as she approached.

Chuluun winced to be the last one to arrive, yet eyed the men incredulously, "What? We're merely a dozen!" she had a small, befuddled smile, looking at the rather motley band of soldiers and rugged mercenaries who stared right back, amused to see such a tiny woman joining them.

The captain instantly reassured her that they were more than enough to pacify a handful of drunken barbarians. They also had the element of surprise in their favour. They soon headed out and the girl truly hoped he was right. She didn't doubt her skills in combat, but it would be useless if they were walking straight into an ambush or worse. The Hill-men better not have reinforcements coming.

They travelled all morning through the dreary plains of Fasach-Larran. The sun barely made an appearance as the skies veiled themselves in heavy dark clouds again. Nevertheless, the temperature was rather pleasant and the snow already melting.

"We have words that the enemy camped in Fasach-Falroid the other night. With any luck, they should still be there. We shall reach it by midday." Haere spoke, sure of himself, as a few of the soldiers expressed their eagerness to fight.

Still, Chuluun's unease grew. They were threading dangerously deep within Angmar, the place was far from secure. She feared the captain was not entirely aware of the situation. Perhaps her doubts were unfounded. After all, she knew very little about the north, but it seemed to her that this particular kingdom had always been one of the most dangerous places of Arda.

"Doesn't that bring us a bit too close to Carn Dûm?" she inquired cautiously, but no reply came and she felt mildly annoyed.

It was suspicious.

Even herself, fearless as she was, knew it was unwise to encroach on Orc territory. She doubted Hill-men would fare so well in such a hostile region.

"Don't worry, little lady, I will protect you!" one of the companions, tall and obviously very strong, approached her as he chuckled. Trying to put his arm around her shoulders. He introduced himself as Vandred.

She shoved him away in a grunt, not in the mood for pleasantries.

He laughed as stepped back closer to his fellow men, "Careful, she bites!" and a few of them shared a laugh.

Chuluun simply shrugged. Had the situation been different, perhaps she would have been more inclined to socialize. However, now wasn't the time for badinage. They had work to do and should remain on their guard at all time. She began to wonder if she wasn't the only one taking this excursion seriously. Maybe she had no reasons to worry. Everyone seemed relaxed and in a good mood.

As noon approached, the calm and stillness of the place felt almost unnatural and even the men were growing a bit nervous now.

As they threaded through the long abandoned settlements along the mountains, an unpleasant smell slowly permeated the air, becoming more and more pungent as they advanced. Merely two hundred metres further, after ascending a steep hill, they finally found the barbarian camp. Drenched in blood, corpses hung mangled from the old, discoloured walls of the deserted ruins of Fasach-Falroid.

"Someone beat us to it?" one of the soldiers spoke in a low voice as he eyed the massacre with wide eyes.

Chuluun threaded carefully amongst the dead. They had been slain merely a few hours ago, the blood was still rather fresh.

"Who could have killed them?" Vandred hissed as he grew angry, flipping one of the corpses with his foot.

"Orcs, most probably." Haere replied as he inspected their surroundings.

As the girl gazed at the numerous arrows stuck to the dark stone bricks and ground, her eyes stopped upon one of the bodies, completely eviscerated. She got down to inspect it more closely. The barbarian's innards had been consumed, his arms and legs severed from his torso were laying close by, flesh had been obviously eaten from the bones.

No doubt this gruesome carnage had been perpetrated by some very savage Orcs.

One of the soldiers grunted as he furiously kicked a fallen shield away, "So much for a good fight! The beasts got there first!"

It was clear the men were disappointed, their life truly lacked any form of trepidation.

Chuluun herself was rather unhappy. The captain was right, only a handful of dumb brutes, they could have easily taken them down. However, she knew it was unwise to linger here, "We should move out, the Orcs might still be close by. They will pick up our scent for sure." she warned as she walked back towards her companions.

"Let them come then!" Vandred cheered, but their leader agreed with her words. It was wiser to return to Aughaire for they couldn't tell how numerous the pack was.

Chuluun sighed, truly she was unfortunate lately, and now she was also famished from leaving without breakfast and walking all morning.

Still, protests came, "We've fought Orcs before, we never backed down. If we find those who did this, you can bet they'll taste our steel!" a mercenary roared as he hit his shield with his sword.

"They'll probably be happy that we have a woman with us this time around." Vandred guffawed with his friends, but the Easterling said nothing. It was best not to argue with degenerates.

She followed the group silently as they headed back towards the village, trailing along the snowy peaks.

Barely had they walked down the hill they came from when, suddenly, a long howl pierced the air.

"Wolves!" Haere shouted as he drew his sword, trying to calm his nervous horse, "Surely they have come to feast upon the dead."

The soldiers readied their weapons as well, alarmed, and so did Chuluun.

She breathed uncomfortably, unsure of what she had heard, but soon the howl resounded again.

She swallowed hard, "Not wolves. Those are Wargs."


	2. The White Wolf

The soldiers gathered around in circle, their backs to each other, eyeing the snowy landscape nervously. The sound of the beasts was drawing closer.

Soon enough, they were encircled by five Wargs and about a dozen Orcs. Probably a scouting pack, far from their stronghold.

They had their chance.

The fiends descended upon them with furor. Judging from the abundance of blood already coating them, those were the Orcs who had slaughtered the Hill-men they had seen in Fasach-Falroid.

"Find which one is the leader and slay him. The curs will disperse!" Haere shouted as he charged the nearest Orc, bashing him with his large shield from atop his horse.

The soldiers quickly began hacking at their opponents, attempting to bring the Wargs and their riders down first.

Chuluun roared as she put her helmet on, its face in the shape of a grimacing monster, much like those around her. Clenching her weapons tightly, there was no choice but to fight.

She had expected the Orcs of the north to be larger, those looked almost exactly like the ones she would encounter back in her homeland. Perhaps a bit more primitive, judging by their get-ups and crude weapons.

Surely their leader was one of the riders, but none of them particularly stood out or even shouted orders. At least she had the advantage of understanding their language, unlike her companions. Having grown up so close to Mordor, Black Speech was not unknown to her. Orcish tongue had some slight differences, especially in such a secluded place, but she could easily make out their words. Most of what was spewed at the moment were insults and threats.

A skinny, mongrel looking creature swung at her, spitting and snarling.

She easily fended him off, slicing his thigh. A Man would have died from this wound, but she knew Orcs barely bled at all. The only sure way to kill one was to cut its head off.

As the fiend fell down to the ground, grasping his leg, she made quick work of him, her sharp axe meeting his neck.

The moment Chuluun's lifted her eyes from her victim, she saw one of the soldiers a few metres away, struggling as he held the jaw of a Warg open to prevent it from biting his face off. The line was clear, so she rushed on ahead.

Yet, when she had almost cleared the distance, someone barred her way just as the beast sank its teeth into her comrade.

She yelped at the gruesome sight before gazing upon her new opponent in horror.

A pale Orc, colossal in stature, white skin deeply marked by dark, cruel scars.

He stood before her, chest heaving, saliva dripping from the corner of his crooked mouth. His left forearm, severed in half, had been replaced by a twisted metal claw embedded straight into his flesh. In his only hand, large enough to crush her head effortlessly, was a heavy black mace, dripping red with blood. He wore very little despite the cold and she could see every details of his enormity. Two arrows were stuck in his shoulders which seemed to cause him no discomfort whatsoever. Upon his alabaster chest were stripes of leather fastened by the shattered fragment of a skull from which dangled odd, crystalline pieces emitting a faint glow.

She noticed the rest of his garment, barely covering his loins, was not made out of stitched hides, but contorted faces, skinned and tanned. She swallowed hard at the primal, brutish monster.

No doubt he was the leader of this pack.

A formidable opponent, too strong for her, she was certain.

As he came charging towards her in a guttural roar, she braced herself.

Anticipating his strike, she managed to sidestep him.

Unfortunately, she didn't expect him to also be fast despite his heavy physique.

As his mace met the snow, he turned around and his spiked prosthetic hit her square in the face.

She was propelled backward and fell on her back in a grunt.

Her helmet, which had luckily absorbed the impact, flew right off her head, landing in the snow metres behind.

The Orc turned around, ready to strike again, yet she noted a mild hesitation in him as he stared upon her with curiosity.

He chuckled as she struggled to get back onto her feet, adrenaline rushing through her veins.

She had no choice, she had to kill him. As much as she didn't want to, despite knowing she had very little hope of winning, there was no other option now. Anyone getting in her way met the same fate, yet she truly doubted she could down this beast.

"I do not wish to fight you!" she barely had time to speak that he was upon her again.

Just as she avoided him, she repeated her sentence in Black Speech. She knew most Orcs understood the common tongue, although they usually pretended otherwise, but maybe this gigantic brute didn't.

Surely this was one of those northern Orcs she had heard rumours about. Never before had she seen one so big or even so pale.

Unmoved by her pleas, he swung his mace again. Even with just one hand, his blows held much strength.

She barely avoided the hit as the weapon met the ground in a loud thud, sending snow flying around.

He lifted it again in a grunt, yet she dodged every attack, fleet-footed as she was.

He was strong, but this club was obviously very heavy, making his strikes slow.

Chuluun saw her advantage, she may yet have a chance to win if she could prevent being within range of his much faster metal claw.

Yet, as she tried to lay harm upon her assailant, her attacks were deflected with such brutal might she'd stagger.

Every single time, she thought she was done for, yet always had a moment to recover before the Orc charged again.

She felt as if he was delaying the final blow.

Surely, she though, a fight so obviously one-sided should have been over by now.

After a few minutes of agile evasion and failed offensives, she managed to put a bit of distance between herself and the pale Orc.

She tried her luck and charged, focusing all of her strength, and pressing what little weight she had forward, as she leaped.

Her axe met his mace in a deafening sound.

He had blocked, but failed to push her off this time around.

This was her chance, the moment she could bring him down.

However, she hesitated.

Despite feeling it would be a huge mistake, instead of shanking his side with her dagger, piercing his lung, she punched hard with the hilt, sparing his life.

The Orc grunted as her small fist met his ribs and instantly shoved her away.

She staggered backward and nearly fell over due to the snow, but managed to regain her balance in the last minute.

With a roar, her opponent pounced, swinging his weapon at her once again.

She lowered herself, barely avoiding the hit, but her shoulder met his chest with full force and she was thrown flat to the ground.

This was her mistake, she thought bitterly as she met the cold expanse.

She should have side-stepped rather than ducked.

She expected her chest to be crushed in an instant.

However, the Orc grabbed her by the breastplate, hooking it by the hem with his claw, and forcefully yanked her back to her feet.

She stared at him, incredulous.

He gave her a sly smile, resuming his battle stance.

She let out a shallow breath, relieved and confused, and smirked back.

"So you just want to play, don't you?" she teased as she twirled her axe, slowly circling him as he did.

Both like apex predators, assessing one another.

"Let's play then!" Chuluun yelled as she rushed forward.

She had no idea why he hadn't killed her. Perhaps he had noted her hesitation when she could have stabbed him. Maybe he took it as a sign that she was simply having fun fighting him. She didn't know, but they kept exchanging blows some more.

Both having plenty of occasions to kill the other, but never doing so.

The Orc would nonchalantly strike whatever Men came too close for comfort but, otherwise, all of his attention was focused on the Easterling. Her fierceness in battle intrigued him. Her refusal to kill him even more so.

Nevertheless, he soon noticed she had spent most of her energy. Her blows became more sluggish, her breathing laboured. He knew it was too risky to carry on. If she ducked too slowly out of fatigue and he actually hit her. He didn't want to kill her, she had been a worthy opponent.

The fight had to be stopped.

However, he was not the kind to simply step down, pat her on the back, and be on his way. There were still some of her companions left to be slaughtered. He wondered what he would do with the girl. He should probably bring her back as spoils of battle. What a waste it would be to eliminate such an ornery little thing.

Sadly, small as she was, she would break easily, but her ferocity lead him to believe she might be just as tough as an Orc. After all, he had heard her use their tongue earlier. She was a strange woman and he couldn't help being somewhat fascinated. She could become an interesting plaything.

As she came running towards him, he foresaw her attack and quickly disarmed her.

Almost instantly, her dagger shot for his face, but this hand was also robbed of weapon.

The pale Orc lifted her off her feet with his claw and threw her a few metres away into a snow bank.

Before she even had time to react, he was charging again.

Chuluun merely managed to sit up that she was down again, pinned to the ground under the handle of his heavy mace upon her chest.

She struggled with both hands to push him off, grunting and trashing without success. She was far too spent and he was way too heavy. She could barely gasp underneath him. Feeling his hot breath panting on her face as he looked at her intensely, his flat snout barely an inch away from her nose.

She could only stare back while slowly calming down.

She was defeated.

Her inky black gaze held his silvery blue one.

For a moment, it was like time itself had stopped.

The girl swallowed hard, paying no attention to the massacre surrounding them. She was completely hypnotized by his pale eyes, cold and strong as iron, yet burning with such primal might and authority.

However, both of them were soon torn out of this trance by a sudden, shrill scream piercing the air.

The Orc rushed back to his feet and glanced at the darkened skies apprehensively.

Chuluun struggled to get up, coughing after being crushed. Only now did she realize how she had been suffocating underneath his immense weight.

She took advantage of this distraction to gather her fallen weapons in the nearby snow.

Then she saw it.

A swarm of wild bats under the heavy clouds.

Foul creatures of Angmar lured by the commotion of battle and the smell of fresh blood.

They descended upon the surviving combatants, clawing and biting as their incessant shrieks became deafening.

She cussed under her breath as she managed to fend off a few of the creatures with her axe.

She ran to Haere, only he and Vandred were still living, dripping in black blood.

They had managed to kill most of their enemies. Both eyed her anxiously as they were retreating.

"We need to get out of here. Now!" the captain shouted.

The few remaining Orcs ignored them for the moment, too busy trying to save their last Warg from the bats to no avail. The beast was eaten alive just as those trying to save it.

Merely a moment after Chuluun thought the situation could not get any worse, a loud, rumbling sound came from the nearby mountains.

Both Orcs and Men shouted in alarm as they collectively rose their eyes towards the source of the ominous noise.

Heavy snow detached from the peaks due to the constant, echoing wails emitted by the swarm. It came tumbling down, forming an immense avalanche headed in their direction.

Everyone immediately ran to the woods.

Haere kicked his panicked horse, but the bats quickly grabbed him.

Chuluun stared in horror as he was taken high into the air, torn apart before falling back down, still screaming, to his death.

She sheathed her weapons and braced herself. Light and agile, she jumped upon the running steed's back as it passed within her reach and kicked it. The beast galloped in fear, trying to avoid Orcs and trees.

She was in luck, a bow was still securely strapped to the saddle.

She grabbed it and shot incoming winged pests down as her mount coursed.

Years of horseback training definitely served her well in this moment.

Unfortunately, her quiver quickly ran out.

She glanced at the approaching avalanche behind her and the airborne nuisances relentless in their assault.

Soon her eyes fell upon the pale Orc running on ahead, defending his kin from dangers and pushing them forward, urging them to go faster.

He still had the pair of arrows stuck to his shoulder.

She gave the foot to her horse some more and swiftly rejoined him, tearing both projectiles from his back on the fly.

"Sorry!" she shouted as he growled in pain.

Almost instantly, she shot a bat coming for him and he narrowly avoided getting hit square in the head by its corpse falling down.

She smiled at the pale one as she readied her last arrow, hitting another nearly upon him.

Only then did she see the second bat right behind it.

This one went straight for her, clawing at her face.

She fell to the side, off her mount, landing heavily in the snow.

Dazed from the hit, her vision blurred in red, she barely managed to get back to her feet and put one step in front of the other.

She could hear the rumbling avalanche getting dangerously closer as the earth tremorred.

She collapsed again, bleeding profusely, too dizzy to carry on.

She was certain she had just lost her left eye.

Crawling painstakingly with her heart pounding so hard it felt almost more painful than her injury.

Convinced she was about to die, she clenched her teeth, unable to gather enough strength to stand.

"Get up, you useless, pathetic failure." Chuluun cussed at herself in a hiss, "Get up!" still crawling, holding her open wounds as blood poured into her gloved palm, she yelled encouragement at herself to no avail.

Suddenly, she felt pulled by brute strength.

The large Orc had grabbed her by the breastplate, putting her back onto her feet, nearly dragging her tiny body.

Adrenaline rushing back through her veins, she finally managed to run, yet she could hardly keep up with his immense stride.

The last thing she saw was the rolling snow nearly upon them as he shoved her behind the immense roots of a fallen fir. The frozen earth still clumped between them acting as a shield her saviour prayed would hold.

He pulled her cape off her back and covered the both of them with it, head against the bottom of the tree.

Others sought refuge there as well, holding onto the twisted wood.

Sadly, as the avalanche hit, all were swept away except for the two.

Terrified, she turned around to hug him tightly, pressing her wounded face to his chest to lessen the bleeding.

The Orc's great strength managing to keep them anchored in place.

Everything went dark as they were buried alive.


	3. Under The Snows Of Angmar

Everything was dark.

Chuluun felt dizzy, only the searing pain in her face reminded her she was still alive.

She felt the blood trickling down her neck and her breath was shallow. She knew she urgently needed stitches or, at the very least, some bandages.

She pressed her head harder against the broad chest of her unlikely saviour, fighting back the tears that dared come for they would only worsen her pain.

"Still conscious, little girl?" the pale Orc asked in a whisper.

She was surprised to hear him speak Westron so fluently. She could only nod against him, trembling.

He pushed her further down amongst the roots, "Put your head to the ground, breathe slowly."

He then wrapped the cloak around her small frame.

Faint and frozen to the bone, she obeyed without questions.

Snow fell onto her as the other grunted and choked.

She then realized he was trying to dig his way out.

Their way out.

He was truly going to save her.

She was soon buried, the weight barely letting her gasp. She had just a bit of air left, the cape preventing her from being entirely smothered. Still, with the blood loss, she was feeling woozy.

Just as she was on the brink of suffocating, she felt herself being brutally pulled out of the snow.

She coughed, the sudden brightness momentarily blinding her.

Laying on her back in disbelief, the girl struggled to fill her lungs with air again.

The Orc told her to take deep, slow breaths lest she would pass out. He glanced around to assess the situation, see if any of his kin had survived, but the place was still and silent. The bats had gone, for now, and the landscape had dramatically changed. Tall trees were nearly buried after the avalanche.

Soon enough, he knell next to the wounded Easterling and looked at the extent of her injuries, pulling her torn eyelid open between calloused fingers.

Chuluun yelped in pain and struggled a bit before he stopped her.

"This will need to be sewn, but your eye may yet recover, if you're lucky." he let go of her to tear a piece of her cloak off and apply it as bandage to her cuts.

"We can't stay here." he then said with a slight hint of nervousness in his voice, "Bats might come back, other creatures too. We must find shelter and fast. I'll see to your wounds once we're safe."

He urged her to her feet.

She stumbled a bit at first, but quickly found her footing, shaking her head as to be rid of the dizziness that momentarily gained her.

The Orc marched onward, but Chuluun fumbled upon her belt, having the necessary for first aid in a pouch which she seemed to have dropped.

"Wait!" she pleaded, digging through the snow from whence she was pulled out a moment ago.

"We can't delay." came the pale Orc's reply in a growl as he barely looked back in her direction. He just kept walking.

Chuluun frantically dug, her hands numb from the cold.

Finally, she saw it, stuck to a twisted root of the stump that had saved their lives.

She quickly grabbed her belongings and ran towards her new companion.

She soon had caught up with him, attaching the pouch back to her waist, fastening it more securely than before.

"I have everything we might need for stitches in it." she sighed, looking at the Orc who apparently paid no attention to her.

He was eyeing their surroundings as they progressed through the frozen woods, like an animal on the prowl, sniffing the air with curiosity.

"I'll stitch you up too." she said casually, looking at the wounds on his shoulder, seeping with thick black blood.

Still no response.

She grunted as she got her dagger from her boot and cut more of her shredded mantle.

"Wait, stop. Stop!"

The Orc finally looked at her with mild annoyance in his eyes.

"I know you're big and tough, but you're bleeding." she said as she tip-toed to bandage his injuries. He was so tall, she had troubles reaching and he didn't move at all to help her. With a bit of struggle, she finally secured the cloth and hoped it would make him better.

"There. Now let's find this shelter, shall we?" she smiled warmly and he nodded before resuming his predatory advance.

The Orc cared not for his injuries, he would not need them stitched and the bleeding would cease soon enough. Her concerns mattered little, but he was somewhat touched by her attention. At least this proved that his well-being mattered to her. The fabric would lessen the scent of his blood a little.

They spent a few minutes in silence. A silence which Chuluun found deafening. This forest was dead. No animals, no sounds, the pines didn't even creak. Nothing moved aside from them and it made her uncomfortable. Truly, this kingdom was cursed. She hated the north.

"My name is Chuluun." she finally spoke, trying to break the ice despite her partner not seemingly very talkative.

And yet.

"Azog." came a few seconds later.

She repeated the name as a certain excitement gained her. Surely, this couldn't be true.

"Not... Azog the Defiler?" she shyly inquired.

The pale Orc grunted, "Don't call me that."

To this, Chuluun beamed, "So it is you! My father Ganyul, and older brother Erdene, fought the battle of Minas Tirith. I've heard so much about you."

"Did you, now?" Azog shrugged, "I only came as reinforcement. This victory belonged to my grandson."

The girl's eyes grew large, it seemed that even his descendants were great leaders. What she would have given to partake in the war, but she was too young at the time, had to stay behind with her mother who could not fight as she was expecting another child. Tales of such a conflict travelled far and wide. They had already heard about the great victory long before her brother and father even returned home.

"They say you were pierced by a full hail of arrows and kept on fighting." Chuluun whispered in awe as she looked at him. Azog was revered as a hero by many and she now felt so humbled to be in his presence.

He simply grumbled, "Tales of war always get somewhat exaggerated."

"And the story that you were stabbed straight through the heart with a sword and survived? That was exaggerated too?" she pouted a bit. This Orc had quite the reputation, surely he had to live up to it. She could barely believe she even stood before him, that he had saved her life. The one who had conquered Erebor a century ago. His conquest was the reason the north now belonged to his kin. After the fall of the Dark Lord, surely he was now regarded as king amongst his people.

With a sigh, he stopped momentarily, pointing a smaller scars amongst a myriad of others upon his broad chest, "The sword went through here." he then trailed his fingers upon the long, vertical one in the middle of his torso, "The medics had to cut me open from neck to stomach and hack my ribs open with a bonesaw to stitch my heart back together and restart it."

Chuluun stared with even wider eyes, swallowing hard as she was both impressed and incredulous.

The Orc then kept walking and she followed. He was surprised she had heard of him in such great details. He mostly ignored the extent of his fame. Vainglory was the flaw of Men, not of his kin. However, he did recall seeing the Easterlings fighting alongside his grandson's legions on Pelennor Fields. Perhaps this was the reason why the girl was so well informed. He had only arrived during the second day of siege, many had already perished and the chaos of battle was total.

Still he found it odd to see one of her kind around here.

"What brought you to my realm, little girl?" he asked, his attention still focused on their surroundings. He hated revealing information about himself without getting to know anything about his interlocutor in exchange. Not that he was particularly interested, but they would most likely be stuck together for quite some time, stranded in Angmar. It was probably best if he learned a little about the Easterling.

Chuluun sighed, even herself was wondering why she was here, "I never intended to come this far. I wanted to see the world and I guess I just took a wrong turn. I do mercenary work, you see. Now I'm not even going to get paid and I might lo-"

She was cut short as Azog pressed his hand over her mouth, urging her to shush.

He listened attentively, obviously hearing something she couldn't.

She dared not breathe, worried he had just caught the sound of an unknown danger lurking deep within the woods. She remained still, his pale fingers gently grazing her quivering lips. She became more and more aware of how unintentionally intimate this touch was with each passing second and she blushed slightly.

He slowly removed his hand, inadvertently trailing his claws gently down her chin in the process and she shivered.

He started walking again, "There's a stream close by." he finally said and Chuluun exhaled in relief, instantly reassured.

This was good news.

They progressed for about three hundred metres more before said stream was finally in sight. Truly, this Orc's sense of hearing was really acute. The water that sluiced amongst iced rocks barely made any sound. Even now that they were next to it, she had to listen intently to hear it.

"We should follow the river, but only from a safe distance." Azog said calmly before heading on ahead.

Yet the girl urged him to wait. Walking to a nearby pine, immensely tall, she looked up, "Give me a boost so I can climb up. I'll try to see if there's a village nearby."

"There aren't, otherwise I would have smelled it. I have a vague idea of where we are, there isn't much to see. We might have to dig a hole in the snow to sleep." came the pale one's reply without great enthusiasm, he truly didn't want to camp out in the open. Still he agreed to help the girl, lifting her easily with one arm.

Chuluun grabbed onto the tree's cold bark and quickly made her way to the top.

"Don't stay up too long, if the bats are still around, they will spot you." he warned in a grunt.

She nodded back while gazing at their surroundings. He was right, she should be careful. She didn't want to come tumbling down this vertiginous height.

The sun was already setting down behind the mountains, daytime was always short in the north.

Just as he had said, there were no settlements in sight.

She was ready to give up for a moment, certain they would have to sleep outside, until she finally spotted something.

Straining her only functional eye, she could see what looked like a fishing shack upriver, close to a small lake. She quickly descended to rejoin the Orc.

"Catch me?" she asked, a bit embarrassed, as she sat upon the last big branch, still over two metres above ground. She didn't want to hurt herself from a clumsy fall. She already felt like she was dead weight and thus was immensely thankful he bothered bringing her along, wherever he was going. She didn't want to give him even more reasons to abandon her.

Azog extended his arm and roughly grabbed her breastplate to bring her back down.

She had hoped for a more delicate approach, but appreciated the help nonetheless.

"There's a fishing shack upriver, we could probably stay there for the night, it seems abandoned." she finally said and the Orc nodded.

They both headed towards this new goal.

Reaching their destination within minutes, they realized it was more than a mere shack, but a small cabin by the calm rivulet. A rather lovely place, but judging by the amount of snow in front of the entrance, it had been deserted for a very long time now.

Still, both readied their weapons, unsure of what they would find.

Azog was calm, he smelled nothing, man or beast, but one could never be too careful. With his great strength, he managed to budge the door ajar a little, but it soon stuck to the irregular ground.

Glancing inside, there wasn't much to see. The place was extremely dusty, surely nobody had been here in years.

"Seems safe enough." he growled lowly as he barely managed to enter through the small opening.

Chuluun followed behind. There was a large fireplace with all the necessary for cooking, a rickety table with a cabinet, an old bear pelt on the ground, and a humble bed in the corner. This place was a satisfactory shelter, much better than digging a hole in the snow. There were a few dried logs remaining so Azog quickly got a fire going. He wasn't particularly cold, but he knew the girl would be, especially during the night.

While the Orc was busy, Chuluun got rid of her armour, leaving her only in dark red clothes, and stretched herself. Now that they were safe, she finally had a chance to truly look at him.

She had seen many of his kind before, they did not scare her. Just as Mankind was diverse, Orckind was diverse in its twisted oddities. Most were repulsive in appearance, but what truly disgusted her the most was their apparent lack of hygiene. However, there was something about Azog. He stood out quite a lot. Not only due to his bone white skin, nor for his eyes of a silvery blue like the pale skies of spring, but mainly in his lack of deformities. He could easily be considered fair in the eye of Men if one was to overlook the fact that he was an Orc. Ignore the fangs, the blunt snout, and pointy ears. The left one seemed to have been partly cut off, she remarked. The irregular wound was old and almost looked as if it had been made by tiny teeth. Despite his injuries, he wasn't as unsightly as most of his kind. He was quite beautiful in a brutish kind of way. His entire being devoid of any hair, deep scars running intricately along his strong shape, almost begging to be trailed by fingertips.

She felt a certain relief, despite rarely being nervous in the presence of his kin. It was somewhat comforting that he was pleasant to look at.

The Orcs of the south were her allies, but she had to keep her guard up in the north. She wasn't entirely sure she could trust Azog, despite him saving her life. These folks, known for their savagery, had a hard time controlling their impulses. She was entirely aware, especially now, that she was but a tiny woman in the claws of the biggest Orc she had ever laid eyes upon. Such brutes were much less impressive when Man-sized. She wondered if there were many others as large as he was. Perhaps it was his abnormal size alone that commanded so much respect amongst his fellows. She knew he could easily hurt or even kill her, be it out of hunger or lust. The fact that his fierce reputation preceded him also made her slightly intimidated. She made due note not to mention his fairness, knowing that his race didn't take too kindly to being called beautiful. If anything, his appearance might be a source of embarrassment to him.

Struggling to take her eyes away from him, the contrasting dark cuts into pale skin so mesmerizing, she decided to look around instead. Investigating the place with an eager curiosity. She checked under the bed, under the covers, under the pelt. There really wasn't much to find. She then pulled the cabinet open. Again, barely anything of interest in there, a few rusty tools, some rope, and an old bottle filled with an unknown liquid. She first thought it was water, but as she pulled the cork and smelled its content, her nostrils were assaulted by a very strong scent of alcohol.

"Phew! What is that thing?" she winced. It wasn't wine and surely not ale either. She handed it to Azog who only took a small whiff.

"How should I know? It's probably moonshine." he shrugged. He had tasted many alcoholic beverages made by Men, he couldn't really tell which one was which, although he knew plenty of names. However, that thing smelled rather potent.

"Can we drink it?" Chuluun inquired as she grabbed the bottle back, grimacing in disgust.

"You're not going to get drunk, are you?" the Orc chuckled. He hoped she wasn't too feisty while under the influence. He wasn't in the mood to bicker with a petulant child.

"Maybe we can use it as disinfectant, but I'll be honest, if you have to stitch my eye up, I'd rather be asleep." she smiled as she took a small gulp of the foul liquid.

She choked as it burned all the way down to her stomach. Truly, it was horrendous, but she instantly felt light-headed.

"Oh, what am I doing. I should care for your wounds before I'm too tipsy." she chuckled, wiping her lips as Azog got back up now that the fire was well started.

"Don't bother, it'll be healed soon. Hurry up and knock yourself out so I can fix you."

She pouted, but did as she was told.

He simply wanted to get this over with before it was too late. Looking outside, he saw a light snow had begun falling again. If this turned into a storm like yesterday, they would have to stay here for a little while. The elements had to be in their favours and, most of all, it would be in their best interest to gather some supplies before heading out again. Once done caring for the girl, he wanted to make snares to catch small animals and find more firewood.

Chuluun sat onto the bed, swatting off the dust. She sneezed and apologized, half-heartedly taking another sip from the bottle. It tasted as bad as it hurt. At least the burning sensation made her forget the pain in her face. She quickly felt numb and sluggish.

Azog got the necessary items from her belt she had left nearby. There was a fine needle and plenty of thread. He had not sewn anyone back together in a long time, but he was sure he hadn't forgotten how. It would be a delicate operation, especially since, last time he did, he still had both his hands.

He came to sit next to her, patiently waiting for her to be ready.

"You just want to be drunk or should I wait until you actually pass out?" he inquired with a smirk.

The girl laughed uncontrollably for a moment. She was quite inebriated already, her cheeks flushed red and her eye glistening in drunken stupor, "Unconscious as can be." she chuckled, her speech slurred as she nearly collapsed onto him.

He held her a bit, but then she pressed her forehead to his shoulder.

"Thank you for saving me." she whimpered before taking another gulp.

"You saved me, I saved you. It's only fair." he replied, somewhat amused.

Chuluun shook her head, which momentarily made her even dizzier, she laid back against him, "You could have just left me to my own device after the avalanche. We are even." she stared into his eyes, pouting a bit before smiling again.

"A lone Orc is a dead Orc, I'd rather have you by my side. Your wound does not make you worthless in battle, you can still be useful. No one would survive alone in Angmar." Azog replied as he tentatively tried pushing her off, somewhat uncomfortable with her proximity. He didn't want to become too familiar with the Easterling, especially if he was to be stuck in a small cabin with her for nights on end. It would be even more difficult to control his impulses if she were to grow fond of him. He'd have to watch his behaviour, make sure he was as impassive and cold as possible. He could protect her from all the creatures of the fell kingdom, but certainly not from himself. He was, by very far, the most dangerous beast around.

This poor girl had no idea who she was dealing with.

Still, Chuluun got closer after another sip, trailing tiny fingers upon the scars lining his face.

He gently, but firmly, grabbed her hand away from him. Clearing his throat as he shivered under her touch, thankful that she was too drunk to notice.

"You do not look like an Orc. You are so beautiful." she whispered, barely able to articulate anymore, as she leaned in closer. Swallowing hard while staring into his silvery eyes, "I want to kiss you." she smiled coyly.

Azog grunted, uncomfortable, trying to hold her off without being rough. She was so frail, miniature even. He was worried a mere touch would break her bones.

Yet, before she even managed to press her lips to his, her head collapsed upon his chest as she fell unconscious.

He sighed in relief, hoping she would have no memory of this upon awakening. He tried not to be too flustered by her words, the girl had no idea what she was saying. He pried the bottle away from her hands, dipping the needle in its content before placing it on the nearby table. She was right, that thing was definitely strong enough to be used as antiseptic. It burned lightly as it came in contact with his fingertips.

He laid her onto the bed as he removed the cloth from her wounded face. He methodically licked all of the blood away, doing his best not to be too distracted by how delicious it was. Once he judged her cuts to be clean enough, he started sewing her up. In the end, it was a good thing she was asleep. That way she wouldn't move nor would she scream in pain. Any loud noises would surely attract unwanted attention.

He was hoping to lay down low for a little while. At least until she had recovered enough of her strength so they could move on again. He was also spent by the long travel and battle. This had started as a simple visit of his kin in Angmar, along with a little surprise massacre of barbarians on the way back home. Nothing like a bit of sport and free food. He had not slept yet. The skies had been particularly dark that day, the sunlight posing no inconvenience. His small pack was eager to be back home, thus they decided to keep on going rather than camping. An Orc could easily go a few days without sleep if need be, but now he was feeling the full effects of his fatigue. Not only that, but he was also wounded. Nothing to worry about, still the pain in his shoulder might hinder his performance in a fight. It would be wiser to wait. Both he and the girl had earned some respite. It was crucial for them to heal up.

This would leave some time to smoke plenty of meat for the travel and make skins to carry water. Maybe, if some of his soldiers had miraculously survived, digging their way out as well, they might be lured to this cabin and reunited with their leader. Strength in numbers, this would greatly reassure him. He had lost his fine grunts and was now stranded in a dangerous place with a complete stranger. A human girl, on top of everything. However, her fierceness in battle he had witnessed earlier had impressed him greatly. He wasn't entirely sure he could trust her yet, but if she could be reliable in a fight, he would gladly bring her along and watch her back if she'd return the favour. He had rarely seen female warriors outside of his own race. A few Elves, sometimes, but very rarely amongst humans.

He normally cared little for their women. They would all cower before him, cry and beg as he forced himself upon them during raids. Every once in a while, one would dare raise arms against him, had some real fight in her. Sadly, it was always out of fear and desperation, he could smell it. He saw tears in their swollen eyes, face livid with panic. Their pitiful blows failed to injure him as they knew not how to properly wield a weapon. This wasn't the case with the Easterling. She was experienced and agile, fearless and strong. Her dark eyes, blacker than the night, burned with passion in battle and he had thoroughly enjoyed measuring himself against her. She was a warrior, just like him. However, she was not as tough as an Orc. Her desire to be unconscious during this procedure proved it.

As he was finally done with the stitches, he placed her under the heavy woollen covers and let her have some rest.

Night had fallen and everything was dark safe for the comforting glow of the fire crackling nearby. Its warmth now filled the entirety of the small cabin. He knew she would sleep comfortably, but would probably have the worst hangover tomorrow. He smiled as he got up and licked whatever blood was left on his fingers before putting needle and thread back in their place.

Exhausted as he was, he had no intention on going to sleep just yet, especially not at night. He would stand watch, although he doubted any serious dangers would befall them now. With his mace strapped to his belt, he grabbed the rope in the cabinet before noticing a lumberjack axe next to the door. This would prove useful to chop some logs later on.

However, for now, he headed back outside.

He planned to gather fallen branches and timber first, to save time, while trying to spot a few good places to set up snares in order to catch wild animals. A storm was coming and snow now fell heavily from the covered skies. He had little time, but he felt sure he could accomplish all of his tasks before the weather turned ugly. He eyed the peaceful lake nearby, maybe they could also catch fish if he'd find something to fashion a decent hook. He could use entrails from small beasts as lure and hopefully land a good meal. It had been a long time since he had cooked for anybody but, like stitching up a wound, he felt sure he hadn't forgotten how to either.

Thus he headed out into the silent forest, his gaze easily piercing the growing darkness.


	4. Day & Night

Chuluun awoke shortly before dawn. Barely any light filtered through the solitary dusty window of the cabin.

Head pounding and feeling sick, she glanced around in the dark, her vision blurry. No sign of the pale Orc and, judging by the dying embers in the fireplace, he had been gone for a while.

She painstakingly got up, leaning against the wooden wall so she wouldn't stumble. The uneven floor as cold as if she were walking outside. She clumsily bumped into the chair in the way and nearly fell over. She cussed, her footing unsure, still feeling so dizzy.

Finally reaching her destination, shivering uncontrollably with her toes curling on the planks, she added the few remaining logs to the glowing coals. She was parched and thus headed towards the small door, pushing it open to eat a bit of snow. The chilly wind bit at her face, but felt rather soothing. She pressed her frozen, wet hands to her forehead, trying to calm her headache. Carefully feeling her stitches, she was rather worried about the extent of her injuries, but at least the job seemed well done. She grunted while walking back to bed, instantly regretting collapsing onto the mattress for it only seemed to worsen her migraine.

She was about to drift back to sleep when she heard rustling outside. Struggling to grab her dagger from the floor without getting up.

She waited.

Truly doubting being in shape to fight, she sighed in relief when she saw Azog coming back.

He entered without even paying attention to her, shaking off the snow from himself. Most of it melted against his hot skin, thin rivulets traced intricate scars and impressive musculature. Instantly noticing the fire had been tended to recently, his gaze fell upon the Easterling, still clutching her weapon.

"Feeling better?" he inquired with a smirk, knowing very well she didn't. The poor girl was a sight for sore eyes, with messy hair and a sweaty brow.

Chuluun shook her head slowly as she let go of the dagger and wrapped herself back tightly underneath the covers, "I think I just need some more sleep." she mumbled as she closed her eyes.

"So do I." Azog sighed while placing his mace upon the table before getting rid of his frozen boots, "You will make some room for me, little girl. You don't need all of this bed to yourself." he grumbled as he stretched himself. A long night in the cold, setting up snares and amassing all the timber he could find under the small wood shelter behind the cabin, had left him drained. He wanted nothing more than to rest, undisturbed, all day long.

Chuluun didn't even protest, rolling nonchalantly to the side to lay next to the wall.

Despite her diminutive size, the bed was rather small, and he was a really big Orc. They ended up pressed one against the other, back to back.

The girl couldn't care less, she felt too nauseous and tired. In the cold room, Azog's body heat was actually appreciated. She was impressed by his tremendous warmth, no wonder he barely shivered in the chilling temperature.

As for him, he truly didn't mind feeling her against his body either. His kin were social sleepers, he was used to proximity. It was a reassuring contact, a protection. However, what he was not used to was laying next to someone of another race, especially a woman. He was rather amused the girl showed no signs of fear when he laid beside her. This was an unusual behaviour. Either she had nerves of steel or was completely oblivious to the potential danger. Not that he had any intention of harming her. At least, she hadn't given him any yet. He had no reasons to kill her, he needed her help, her company. Not to mention she was far too scrawny to make a good meal. He'd have to be really desperate.

The Orc was drawn from his wandering thoughts as she shifted a bit, pressing her back harder against his. He smiled, almost wanting to turn around and embrace her, but knowing her current state, she would probably feel sicker if he were to smother her under his arm. He bitterly remembered he shouldn't become too familiar with her either.

They both fell asleep as the sun slowly rose.

When Chuluun finally awoke again, she felt a bit better. The headache was still there, but less throbbing. She no longer felt nauseous and dizzy. Seeing her surroundings bathed in a warm orange light, she quickly understood it was already dusk.

Her nose then caught an unpleasant, coppery smell as she sat up and turned around, glancing over Azog sitting by the table with blood all over.

He was busy skinning a few rabbits, using a small knife and his teeth. The noise and sight were rather repulsive, but he was very efficient in his duty. No doubt he had been awake for a moment already. He heard her stir, turning his head as blood dripped onto his chin.

"So, are you feeling better now, little girl?" he inquired as he smiled, licking the red liquid running down his hand.

Chuluun nodded while rubbing her eyes, wincing as she had momentarily forgotten about her wound, "Surely I'll be good to go tomorrow." she yawned, stretching herself before grabbing the jade comb from her bag and brushing her messy hair.

"We won't be leaving just yet. We'll gather some food and water for the travel first." Azog said calmly, setting his eyes back onto his task.

"Where are we headed, may I ask?" the girl asked as she shuffled on the bed, instantly advising against putting her bare feet onto the cold planked floor. She grabbed her boots and put them back on. Yet she sat with legs crossed on the mattress in order to keep warm.

Azog was still absorbed by the skinning, but answered nonetheless, "Well, before this unfortunate accident, I was headed back home, nothing's changed."

Chuluun grumbled, this barely enlightened her, "And where is home?"

"Erebor." came his simple reply.

The girl pouted. He was much colder than yesterday, unpleasant even. Perhaps it was because he was busy at the moment and couldn't focus on two things at once. She dearly hoped he didn't think she was annoying, "Erebor? But it will take nearly a month to get there on foot! Not to mention the dangers along the way."

"Don't worry, we'll make a stop by Gundabad to get some Wargs."

"Then what about me? I'm headed due east, I can accompany you all the way to the Lonely Mountain, but will you let me get back home?"

"I'll think about it." Azog smirked as he munched upon a bit of meat.

Chuluun scoffed, "My people and yours have been allies since the Second Age. I certainly hope you will at least leave me in a village close by so I can get myself a horse and head back towards Rhûn."

No reply came and she sighed in annoyance. It didn't matter, she could easily slip him on the way if need be. It wouldn't be the first time she had to run away from Orcs. If he could protect her and even provide her with transportation as far as Erebor, then she would trail along without complaints.

The girl tried to get Azog's attention once more with some questions about the way they would travel, what road they would take, and if he even had any idea of their current location, but he ignored her.

She soon stopped asking, flustered. She knew they didn't have to like one another simply because they were stuck together, but he made absolutely no efforts to show some common courtesy. It felt strange to admit such a thing, but she had met friendlier Orcs. This one was a real brute. He had saved and spoken to her politely yesterday. She couldn't figure out why he was so moody at the moment. She bit her lips, hoping she hadn't accidentally said anything to vex him while inebriated. She couldn't recall the whole evening clearly.

She stared out the dusty window with a sigh, absent-mindedly trailing her fingers upon her stitches. She began to worry. The pain had greatly diminished, but the size of her injury seemed rather impressive. She grabbed her golden shoulderguard from the floor, quickly polishing it with the back of her sleeve to provide a reflective surface.

She gazed at the extent of the damages. A claw mark, right across her left eye, slashing her eyebrow in two and going almost all the way up to her hairline. She was lucky to still have her eye, yet she whimpered in a faint voice, "I'm disfigured."

Looking back at the Orc who paid no attention to her at all, focused as he was on filleting the coneys. She blushed slightly, realizing what she had just said while gazing upon his scourged face. She could not expect him to be nice if she was unintentionally rude. Perhaps that was the problem, she didn't approach him properly.

She cleared her throat, apologizing almost inaudibly, suddenly uncomfortable.

Azog lifted his head to look at her, "Makes you look fierce. You should be proud.".

The girl scoffed in slight amusement, "I have my helmet to wear if I want to look fierce."

"But you lost it during the battle. You will never lose a scar, especially not during a fight. You'll only gain more." He tore yet another rabbit open in a slight smile.

Encouraged, Chuluun shifted onto the mattress, putting her piece of armour back on the ground, "How did you... get yours?" she asked shyly, her legs dangling down nervously.

The Orc instantly darted his silver eyes, as if taken aback by the question, "I made them!" He proudly answered after a moment, lifting the knife before his face in a slashing motion. She gave him a rather puzzled look, not only because he had been concise this time, but also because this seemed like a very strange thing to do. Those scars were very impressive. She could barely imagine how much suffering he had to go through to make all of them.

"They go really deep. It must have been excruciatingly painful. Why do such a thing?"

Azog put the blade down and gave her a stern look, "Physical pain is nothing, there are worst tortures in this world."

The girl stared in disbelief, that didn't answer her question. Naturally, she grew curious. At least he was no longer ignoring her. She rose from the bed to sit across him, "I understand, but why do it?"

He looked away from her, obviously irritated, "I told you already. Scars make one look fierce."

"Surely your sheer size alone makes you look intimidating enough. It seems unnecessary to go through such... mutilation only for the sake of-"

"You're bothering me, little girl. Stop talking." Azog abruptly cut her in a growl, raising his voice and giving her a black look before angrily resuming his task.

Chuluun was initially startled by his reaction, but soon grunted and got up.

Grabbing her cloak and weapons, she was quickly out the door. The cold wind stung against her skin and she wrapped her shredded garment tightly around herself. The last thing she wanted was an argument with this stubborn Orc. Just as she thought things were going a bit better and that he was opening up to her somewhat.

She sighed. Clearly, she had been wrong.

She went for a walk upriver to calm her frustration. Being outside felt good, the fresh air would clear her mind. Still she couldn't help thinking about his scars. Maybe they were a mark of shame, that's why he felt reluctant to talk about them. Maybe he had lied and someone had made them as a form of torture or humiliation. Why would he bear such marks anyway?

She breathed deep, it was unlikely she would ever learn the truth.

Trying to forget about it, the girl hoped he wouldn't begrudge her for being so curious. She had no idea how to converse with the pale Orc without either making him angry or ending up completely ignored.

When she finally reached the lake, the sun was almost set and darkness slowly shrouded the landscape. The ice was thin and she could glimpse a few fish swimming around. After seeing Azog eating raw, bloody rabbits, she didn't really feel like red meat tonight, especially not after feeling sick all day long.

She quickly hacked a sturdy branch off a tree with her axe and carved the end into a point. She used to go spearfishing with her older brother while in Harad. The lake was rather shallow, she was certain she could land a few good catch. She hoped to bring more than one back and also prayed that Orcs liked fish. Perhaps offering him food would put him in better dispositions to talk. She was not ready to give up just yet.

Back in the cabin, Azog was nearly done with what would be tonight's meal. He wasn't worried about the Easterling. She would be back. She had left her armour behind and he knew she wasn't enough of a fool to believe she could survive the night alone in the cold. He wondered if he should even bother cooking her meal. After all, she could probably do it herself. Just because they were stuck together didn't require him to be nice.

Why would he even have to bring her all the way to Erebor? Upon reaching Gundabad, he would no longer need her. He'd be reunited with his kin and surely a handful of them would travel along the way with him. He could leave the girl to her own device afterwards. What she had told him after the avalanche was absolutely right. She had saved his life and he saved hers.

They were even.

Unless he found himself indebted to her again along the way, he would not help her further. Easterlings and Orcs may be allies, but his northern kin hardly ever had dealings with them. The girl was far too stubborn and inquisitive, she would be nothing but troubles. She was too young, too frail.

Azog did his best to convince himself he didn't want to protect her, didn't want her presence in his life.

He grunted, it had been so long since someone had shown any interest in him. At least, not from an opportunistic standpoint. It was obvious this little Easterling was not captivated by him because of his status. She didn't seek power or a higher position. After all, she was not an Orc, he had nothing to offer her, but her apparent fascination was somewhat endearing.

He shook his head with a sigh.

He couldn't allow himself to grow fond of her.

Merely an hour later, Chuluun was back with three large fish skewered on a crude spear. While she had been gone, Azog had cut and brought quite a bit of wood into the cabin. As she entered, he was laying on the bed, relaxing.

The pungent smell of blood still permeated the air and small pelts were hung in a corner.

"So you did come back." the Orc smirked, eyes closed, entirely motionless safe for his steady breathing.

Chuluun rolled her shoulders, rather proud of her catch, "I went ahead and caught my own meal. I don't need you to do everything for me."

"That's a good thing you did, because I left you nothing." Azog chuckled, still not looking at her. He could smell the fish she had brought.

Glancing again upon the little furs hanging at the back of the cabin, Chuluun's eyes grew wider, "You ate five rabbits?" She tried to hide her surprise. One alone would have made for a copious meal. She eyed the table and there were absolutely no remains, no organs, no bones, only a bit of blood. Could he have eaten absolutely everything? Keeping this monster fed during their travel would be impossible and she swallowed hard. She didn't want to end up on the menu.

"I could have eaten five more. They were tiny." Azog grumbled as he shifted onto the mattress.

This only increased her nervosity and she cleared her throat, uncomfortable. She was happy to have brought back more meat, "Well, one fish is going to be enough for me. Would you like the other two?" she inquired shyly, worried he would be vexed that she offered him food after he gave her absolutely nothing.

Azog finally opened his eyes, glancing upon her catch. Large pikes, rather impressive. He smiled, "I'll have only one as well, we'll smoke the other and set it aside for the journey." he got up and grabbed one of the fish from the wooden spear, eating it as is, head and bones.

Chuluun barely had time to react that he had already scarfed the whole thing down. Azog liked his fingers with delight. Orcs rarely ever ate anything that thrived in water since they would rarely live close to it. Even when they did, they always went for red meat first.

A few years after they had taken Erebor, Men sought to repopulate Esgaroth despite the menace. In an effort to be pragmatic, he allowed them to live there so long as they would pay tribute to him. Owning the vast treasure of the Dwarves, he was not interested in gold. His kin never were, their economy solely based on bartering. However, providing food for such a vast army was always rather difficult and thus the fishermen shared their catch and, in return, were allowed to live upon the Long Lake again without fear of constant raiding. Over time, fish had become a more common meal for the Orcs of Erebor.

Chuluun handed him the second one, admitting she had no clue how to properly smoke meat, although she saw it done a few times. She then sat before the fire and cooked her own meal, leaving it hanging by the point of her makeshift spear while Azog filleted the cold pike.

"We'll never have enough meat to feed you during the travel." she mumbled as she rotated her catch over the crackling embers.

To this, the pale Orc chuckled, "We'll hunt along the way. I'm eating more now so I gather some strength for the journey. I don't always eat this much. You should eat a bit more too, grow stronger." he looked at her from the corner of his eye with a playful smirk and she stared right back.

She couldn't hold his gaze for very long before growing uncomfortable and focusing back on the fire.

"Are you worried I might eat you, little girl?" he chuckled as he piled up the meat onto the table and ate the remaining skin and bones before licking his fingers.

Chuluun didn't even look at him, unable to discern if he was threatening or teasing, "I can guarantee you'll have a lot more scars if you try." she whispered monotonally as she checked the state of her meal.

Azog laughed as he got up and grabbed the cut fish.

She glanced at him as he was leaving, "Won't you smoke it?" the girl inquired as she pointed to the fire.

"There's a smoker outside, it was buried in the snow. They were really well equipped, I wonder why they left." he replied as he headed out the door.

Chuluun shrugged. If anything, whoever owned this little cabin had been killed by Orcs some years ago. It wouldn't even surprise her if they had been under Azog's command, but she'd rather not think about it.

Poking the roasted pike with her dagger, a bit of the meat fell off onto her pants. She grabbed it and quickly shuffled it between her palms as it was a bit too hot before stuffing it into her mouth, pulling a few fishbones out as she chewed.

The Orc came back to put some hot coals in a bucket and instantly egressed again.

Chuluun quickly finished her food, wishing there had been some spices or even lemon to go along with it. Plain fish was not particularly delicious, even though the fire had given it a bit of a pleasant flavour.

As the Orc returned, he sat beside her by the hearth and she offered the rest of the cooked carcass to him. He instantly ate it right from her hand.

She was even worried he would bite her fingers off, but he simply suckled on them a little. His large, rasp tongue trailing her slender digits. She instinctively withdrew her hand, made uneasy by his touch.

Azog winced as he was done, "They don't taste as good when they're cooked." and licked his fangs with a certain disgust.

The girl smiled to see his reaction, breathing more easily. At least having him around had the advantage that nothing went to waste. Still, she didn't allow herself to make any comments about raw meat consumption.

They spent the entire night sitting in front of the fire, tending to it when needed.

At first, Chuluun tried to start a conversation, but soon realized her efforts were in vain. Her companion simply ignored her. In fact, it was as if she didn't even exist. There wasn't much to do besides waiting for the night to be through. She would have loved to learn about him, ask where he was from, about his family. Surely he had relatives. Perhaps he just didn't want to befriend one of her kind.

She couldn't blame him, Orcs had always been hunted and slaughtered by Men. Thus, for the moment, she simply believed it was the reason why he was so cold.

The evening seemed interminable in the awkward silence. However, Azog didn't seem to be bothered by it at all.

It was only as the night closed in that he finally spoke, telling her he was going to check the snares as he headed outside.

She simply nodded as she heard the door close. Legs pressed to her body with her chin resting upon her knees, she stared into the flames. She was relieved there had been no animosity in his voice, but his silence was really unpleasant.

Azog came back by the crack of dawn, two rabbits and a pheasant in hand. He hung them by the window, where they would remain cold, stating he would take care of them when he awoke.

He soon headed to bed, but Chuluun stayed by the fire for a little while longer, watching the last few logs crumble into ashes and embers.

About an hour later, when the sun shone brightly outside, the heat of the hearth had greatly diminished. She added more wood and finally got up. One of her legs had fallen asleep as she hadn't noticed she'd been sitting on it for so long. She shook it to get rid of the obnoxious feeling and shuffled towards the bed as best as she could.

Azog was already asleep or, at least, he seemed to be.

She had to crawl over his gigantic frame in order to reach the tiny spot he had left her. Barely able to straddle him, she grunted as she finally managed to get to her side of the bed. She didn't care if she had disturbed his rest, he didn't care to leave her some space. She bundled herself underneath the covers, squeezed hard between his pale body and the planked wall. She had her face pressed against his chest despite herself. His warmth was pleasant, but she was not particularly fond of such a close contact.

She tried pushing him to no avail.

She eventually gave up, closing her eyes. She breathed in his scent, somewhat earthy, damp even, with pungent note of musky sweat and blood. She wrinkled her nose a bit. Although she was no longer very clean herself, this Orc could sure use a long bath. She couldn't turn around lest she'd have her face scrapping against the wall.

Uncomfortable as she was, it took a long moment before she fell asleep.

Azog had indeed been awoken by her climbing on top of him. However, he was unaware of how little space he had left for the girl. He thought that she was intentionally hugging him closely for comfort and he purred happily despite himself. She was so tiny, it almost felt like he was holding a child in his arms. It was so comforting to sleep with someone again. His slumber had been lonely and cold for centuries now.


	5. Show Me Yours, I'll Show You Mine

Four days had passed, rather uneventfully.

Chuluun could finally open her wounded eye without much pain and, although its vision was slightly blurred, it did not hinder her.

Azog and her did not get along any better, most of the time was spent in silence, which she found rather uncomfortable, but to him, it was pleasant and he failed to notice her discomfort most of the time. He didn't talk unless it was important. He usually regretted answering any of her questions and the girl quickly learned to calm her curiosity. She felt as if, every time she took a step forward, the Orc took a step back. To a point where it was almost amusing, like he was scared of her.

Still she hoped for nothing more than a bit of conviviality. Perhaps he just hated her. Saddened by his coldness and attitude, she tried avoiding him for the most part and spent a lot of time by the lake despite the falling snow.

They had plenty of meat in stores now, Azog having downed two small deer in one night. She greatly admired his hunting abilities. He was a silent tracker, stealthy and efficient. His white skin was definitely a great advantage in the snowy forest.

In Khand, her people would hunt alongside trained birds of prey while riding on a horse. She wasn't going to be of any use in the woods. At least she knew how to fish and thus brought back plenty of food as well, but never as much as the Orc. She felt so inadequate. Knowing it was not a competition and that he was better than her in absolutely everything. She just wanted to make him proud, but he always seemed entirely unimpressed.

After a long evening of skinning and cleaning their nightly catch, both sat in front of the fire.

Having finished eating, they simply waited for time to pass as they always would.

Chuluun was sipping hot water from an old cup she'd found under the cabinet. She had gotten a bit colder than usual while outside tonight and she absolutely didn't want to wound up sick.

Staring at her for a moment, Azog then spotted a scar upon her left wrist. Long and gruesome, it only evoked one thing to him and he grew slightly uncomfortable, averting his eyes.

The girl caught on his discomfort, ignoring its source, she chuckled, "What's the matter? You suddenly look upset."

The Orc shook his head and assured her it was nothing.

Instantly annoyed, she sighed, insisting on knowing what was the problem.

After quite a bit of interrogation, persistence, and fussing on her part, he finally gave up and pointed to her exposed wrist.

"You tried to kill yourself. My people have a strong distaste for suicide." Azog grumbled, still barely able to look at her. Taking one's own life, this was desperation. It was weak and pitiful. It should only be a last resort and still he could not even think of one occasion where it would be acceptable to do so. It was even more miserable to attempt and fail like she obviously did. An Orc dying by his own hand was better off dead for he was obviously worthless.

Chuluun looked at the scar upon her forearm for a few seconds, utterly dumbfounded, before breaking into uncontrollable laughter, "This? No, this scar here, I'd... well, it's rather embarrassing, really." she breathed deep, trying to regain her composure, as she pulled onto her sleeve to hide the mark.

Azog finally lifted his eyes, looking at her inquisitively, "Nothing can be more embarrassing than trying to commit suicide and failing. What happened?"

The girl sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the pelt before clearing her throat, "It's really not an epic tale of battle, I assure you."

"Do tell anyway."

"I cut myself with a cheese knife. I rarely get asked any questions about this scar but, when I do, I usually lie. There's really nothing to be proud of here, I was clumsy. I'm never lucky while camping." she smiled bitterly, instinctively hiding her wrist with her other hand.

Azog chuckled, indeed this wasn't the kind of story anyone would want to tell, but it was a lot better than his initial assumption, "And here I thought that wound on your face would be your first scar." he pointed to her injury nonchalantly.

The girl raised her eyebrows, "I'll have you know that I bear many scars." Chuluun said with a coy smile, "It's just they're all where you cannot see." and instantly noticed Azog's interest was piqued. She suddenly remembered his kin were very fond of battle wounds. The more marked and battered an Orc would be, the prouder they were and the more respect they commanded amongst their fellows.

Perhaps this was why Azog had his scars, she thought, but they were obviously not won in battle. There was a pattern behind them, an attempt at symmetry.

She calmly rolled her sleeve up to show another old cut, "This one is better, sliced by a sword, I nearly lost my arm."

Azog let out a low growl, touching her soft skin. He loved this scar, it was beautiful on her, the mere idea that she had more was enticing.

The girl did notice his curiosity growing and thought this may very well be her only chance to learn about his own cicatrices. Perhaps even bond with him a little at long last.

"Let's play a game, shall we? For every question you will answer, without getting angry of course, about your scars, I'll show you one of mine that you haven't seen yet. And, if you're really good, I'll let you touch it." she suggested as she trailed her fingers delicately upon his broad chest.

The Orc simply shrugged, unsure what to think of this strange idea, but he most definitely wanted to hear about her accomplishments in battle.

Still, the girl continued, "Now, since you've seen and touched this one, I get to ask you a question about yours. Alright?"

Azog nodded, it seemed like a fair deal, although he was a bit apprehensive as to what she would ask him.

Following a long scar upon his pectorals, she spoke gently, "Who made them?"

"I made them." the same answer as the night before, although it came much more dryly.

Chuluun sighed, removing her hand from his chest, hoping he was not lying as she impatiently urged him to elaborate.

Azog wanted to snarl at her, but immediately remembered her instructions, "You asked me a question, I answered. Show me another scar, then ask another question." he smiled defiantly.

If it's a game she wanted, he'd play along.

The girl cleared her throat in annoyance. She began to worry she might not have enough scars to get all the information she hoped for out of this very stubborn Orc.

Still, it was worth a try.

She pulled a bit of her pants up, exposing her calf. A long, horizontal cut appeared almost in the middle.

Azog instantly trailed his fingertips upon it.

At least these marks did entice him, she thought, he no longer seemed so cold.

"This one, I can't remember whether it was sword or axe, but it was against a few Men of Gondor who had strayed a bit too far south back when I resided in Harad with Erdene, my brother. We fought side by side on numerous occasions." Chuluun smiled at the memory, these had been the best years of her young life and dearly hoped she could go back there someday.

Azog looked at her injuries as if they were marks of great prestige and this amused her.

As the lowered cloth over her exposed skin, the Orc grumbled slightly to have his appreciation cut short.

Chuluun righted herself a bit as she crossed her legs again, "So, you said you made yours. Tell me why you made them and please do not give me the "I wanted to look fierce" excuse. I've already heard it and I don't believe you." she spoke as she glanced upon him from the corner of her eye, toes nervously wiggling while she shifted a bit on the pelt.

Azog shared her discomfort, but for entirely different reasons. He wondered just how much he would have to tell her until she was satisfied. He hoped she didn't have that many scars hidden for this incessant questioning would drive him insane. His marks were not something he enjoyed talking about or even evoking at all.

"It was because of love." he finally said after a long hesitation.

Chuluun stared at him for a moment, absolutely incredulous.

However, just as she was about to open her mouth to ask for more details, he stopped her, "I answered your question. If you'd like to know more, show me more." Azog smirked as he pressed a finger to her round lips. He would not let her win this.

The girl mumbled unintelligibly as she got up to her knees, lifting her tunic a bit and lowering the waist of her pants to expose her left hip, "This one, stabbed while finishing off an Orc. I learned that, even though your people may look done for when laying on the ground, choking on their own blood, they often have quite a bit of fight left in them."

This scar was very low on her abdomen, she pulled her garment a bit further down and he caught a brief glimpse of the dark curls of her sex.

He licked his lips, doubting his self-control. Touching this scar, surely he would want to explore her more, slide his hand between her legs and make her squirm against him. Slip his fingers inside of her, wet and willing. He longed to ravage her.

Still he managed to trail its lovely curve without giving in to desire. She was not some peasant girl he met during a raid. She was a warrior. Forcing himself upon her would not only tarnish her honour, but she would want to kill him, so he'd have no choice but to dispose of her once he was done. He still needed her if he hoped to leave Angmar alive. She was so small too, surely he would break her. She was off limit, he couldn't afford to take her.

He cared not that she had slaughtered his kin. In fact, it was an even greater testament of her strength.

"You were lucky the blade was not poisoned." he purred as he was still caressing the mark on her thin hip. He had never laid hands upon one so frail, the feel and sight were strangely mesmerizing. Her clothes concealed just how miniature she actually was.

To his words, Chuluun shrugged, she hadn't really thought about it, but he was right. Orcs' weapons were usually coated in potent venom, she had indeed been fortunate.

"Lucky or not, I couldn't walk for two weeks afterwards." she pulled her pants back up , much to Azog's dismay, and sat down beside him once again. She took a long gulp of water from her cup before wiping her lips and sighing contentedly, "So, you mutilated yourself out of love. For whom?"

"My mate, obviously." he whispered as his eyes fled hers.

Chuluun knew it was better not to insist on the matter. She then thought about showing him the scars she bore on her back but, just as she was about to do so, she remembered this old arrow wound on her right thigh and felt it would be better to expose this one first. She'd rather keep her more serious injuries for last.

Struggling to roll her pants up high enough to show it off, she explained this was a bolt lost during a bandit raid, again, during her time in Harad. They had managed to drive them off, but many had died and she had been injured.

Azog rolled his calloused thumb upon it, his hand nearly large enough to fully grasp her thigh. His touch was rather pleasant, very warm and surprisingly soft.

Chuluun had to admit she quite enjoyed it. She rarely let anyone touch her.

Asking him whether he had made his cuts in one time or over numerous nights, he explained that it had all been done in one night. While Orcs didn't bleed a lot when cut, those were carved so deep, with such fierce determination, chunks of his flesh had fallen off as well and he'd nearly passed out from blood loss.

The girl was left voiceless. This was a gruesome proof as to how powerful his love for his mate was, but she couldn't pretend she understood the ways of Orcs. He had so many scars slicing through his thick skin. The mere idea that he had done all of them in one sitting was too much for her to wrap her head around. It was best to move on to the next question.

She lifted the hind of her tunic, exposing her back.

Azog saw cruel marks marring it, no doubt she had been whipped. He gently followed the fine lines by fingertips and the girl shivered in his touch.

"What happened?" the pale Orc asked in a whisper.

"I was young and stupid and, most of all, very hungry. Only time I got caught stealing food. Got ten lashes." she reminisced with a chuckle, still amused at her own ineptitude.

Azog growled softly, although he could not explain why, he felt angered that such harm had fallen upon her. These scars were not won in battle, they were a punishment. A reminder of doubtlessly difficult times where she did not have enough to eat. The Orc knew just how cruel and torturous hunger could be. He would gladly take any sort of physical pain rather than starving.

He idly massaged her back with his one hand, feeling her scars under his thumb, admiring the golden hue of her skin. He was always amazed at how tiny she was every time he laid his hands upon her. Her truculent temper and fearlessness always gave him this false idea that she was just as big and strong as he was. Yet, his palm almost covered her entire lower back. There was nothing but bones underneath thin, delicate skin. Slender, sinewy shoulders and legs, those were the only parts he could spot a bit of strength, but she was just so humbly proportioned. He felt like he might break the poor girl by merely caressing her, but she wreathed and moaned under his touch, loving the feeling of his rough, warm palm.

Chuluun sighed happily, letting his heavy strokes soothe her sore muscles.

"I have this feeling you won't tell me about your mate." she finally said, her voice almost a whisper.

Azog's eyes darted and his ministrations instantly came to a halt, "You're right. All I can say is she died long ago and I do not wish to discuss this matter, so do not waste your scars questioning me about it."

"Just as I suspected. I'm very sorry for your loss." the girl replied as she lowered her tunic over her backside again.

Fearing she was venturing on a risky terrain, she didn't want to upset her companion, thus weighed her words, wondering what she could ask him next. She only had one scar left to show now, her chances of learning more about Azog grew thin.

"Did you mutilate yourself willingly, or did she make you do it?" barely had the last word escaped her mouth that she bit her lips. Hoping she didn't sound too insolent.

The Orc was now gazing into the dancing flames in front of them, seemingly lost in thoughts, "I wanted her. So I killed for her, spilt blood for her. It was never enough. One night, she requested I spill my own blood, so I did. Only after did she become my mate. That is all."

Chuluun winced slightly at this revelation, hoping he didn't notice. She was left puzzled by this strange vow of love. Surely this wasn't common amongst Orcs or else she would have seen many more bearing strange markings like Azog did. She was down to her last scar and didn't really know what else she could ask him about them. His answers were always short and gave as little information as possible.

She shifted a bit to face him, lowering the neckline of her red garment to expose a bit of her chest without having to take the whole thing off. The last thing she wanted was to be half naked in front of an Orc.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you how I got this one for I can't remember." she admitted, a bit embarrassed.

Azog laid eyes upon a large, very impressive scar slicing horizontally across her chest, just over her barely visible breasts. He could not imagine what might have happened to her and how she survived.

"How come you can't remember? When did you get it?" he inquired with great curiosity as he intently caressed the gruesome mark.

Chuluun simply pouted as she shrugged, "I truly cannot say. I know I was not born with it, but I feel like it just suddenly appeared one day. I can't recall a battle where I would have sustained such injury nor any events that may have led to it. No one who fought by my side can tell me about it. I know it sounds crazy, especially when you see just how large and impressive this scar is, but I just do not know what happened." she stared into the fire, mildly distracted, while the Orc was still caressing her.

It always felt strange talking about it. She was entirely confused. She could remember so many things in her life, remember every battles she had partaken in. Even had distant memories from when she was very, very young. However, she could not find a single little detail in her mind that might clarify this. She could hardly recall when she first noticed it was there, this huge mark. She had learned, years ago, that it was better not to puzzle herself endlessly, nothing ever came back to her mind concerning it.

Azog's palm nearly covered her entire chest and she enjoyed his touch, although she found it a bit daring. She moaned almost inaudibly as his fingers gently trailed over her small breasts. She would have pushed him away, but his caresses were not lascivious. He just tenderly fondled her as he purred lowly. It felt rather good and she soon grew aroused despite herself. There was no way she would allow herself to feel lust for him.

Yet, just as she was about to urge him to stop, he removed his hand and chuckled.

"You pretend like you don't remember, but I'm sure it was the cheese knife again."

The Easterling shared his amusement, laughing as well, and instantly relaxing again, "Mystery solved." she smiled as she righted her tunic, hiding her exposed skin.

"Clumsy little girl." Azog pressed his forehead to hers with a smile, purring in satisfaction.

Chuluun instantly tensed, flustered by the sudden approach, worried he was trying to kiss her. After touching her so shamelessly just a moment ago, she thought he was pushing the limits a bit too far now. That he would dare such an audacious advance might be somewhat unsurprising.

However, what truly shocked her was just how much she actually wanted him to press his scarred lips to her.

Tremendously ashamed of herself, she shoved him away in a grunt and crossed her arms upon her heaving chest.

The Orc was momentarily taken aback by her sudden reaction. Everything seemed to go well until now and yet, just as he was beginning to feel like she was rather pleasant to be around, she would disrespect him so. He frowned, growling faintly as he rose from the ground. She held him under the blackest of gaze and it took all of his willpower not to strike her. He was tired and had just about enough of her attitude and the mixed signals she sent him. Had she been afraid, he could have understood that she didn't think her actions through, but she was not scared. There was nothing but seething hatred burning within her in this moment, he could sense it. There simply was no logic to this woman. He grunted as he headed to bed, not even caring to talk to her anymore.

Chuluun remained seated on the ground, motionless. Seeing Azog getting so flustered from her refusal of what she thought was a rather clumsy attempt at intimacy only fuelled her anger with him. She stared at the burning embers and waited as he went to bed. Although her frustration diminished with each passing minutes, she couldn't shake those confusing feelings away.

When she finally calmed down, she was sure that he was asleep. She didn't want to climb in bed with him, the mere proximity of his body would be too much. She was worried about what might happen. He was a brute, he had no respect. She couldn't trust him.

Dragging the bear pelt on the floor as silently as possible, she placed it closer to the fireplace. It wouldn't be the most comfortable place to lay, but she's had worse during her long travels.

Curling up on the old, coarse fur, Chuluun closed her eyes as the warmth of the embers washed over her body. She dreaded what would happen when they awoke in the evening. Hopefully he wouldn't be too upset nor would he try kissing her again.

She swallowed hard. She would be stuck alone with him for a long while during this travel. She began to fear if she didn't offer herself willingly, he would force her. Granted he was not too repulsive, for an Orc at least, but his manners made her skin crawl. She felt disrespected. She would never be able to live through the shame of being used as a mere plaything by a monster without consideration. If only he would show some kindness, some love. She truly doubted her was even capable of such complex emotions. She tried chasing the unpleasant thoughts invading her mind lest she would be unable to rest. The guilt of wanting him devouring her. She felt sure she would have nightmares.

Laying in the bed alone, Azog was too upset to find sleep. He heard the girl drag the pelt away and immediately understood she would not be joining him. He was torn between the desire to hold her against him and being happy that she gave him some space after what had just happened. He was confused and irritated, unable to understand her odd behaviour. The night had gone so well, he felt as if they were finally bonding, had something to talk about.

He knew he shouldn't let himself grow fond of her, but he had an immense respect for the Easterling now. She had seen many battles despite her apparent young age. She was fearless and capable. She had risen up in his esteem, he felt glad that she was his companion along this journey. He wanted to help her.

However, her sudden change of attitude, how she pushed him away, how she looked at him. He couldn't understand what he had done wrong, what had ticked her off. Unable to stop thinking about how her tiny chest felt under his palm. Although her tunic stood inbetween, preventing skin-on-skin contact, it had been so pleasant. How she had moaned gently under his touch. She had not shown any hostility when he had fondled her, even though he had expected her to do so. He knew he was pushing his luck, still she didn't react negatively at all. It was only when he expressed his respect and affection, in the most platonic manner, that she became upset.

It made no sense.

He tried not to feel too resentful towards her, but he was offended. Hopefully getting some rest would calm his nerves down. If all went well, they would be leaving in the evening.


End file.
